


It'll Nearly Be Like a Picture Print by Currier & Ives

by pirateygoodness



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Established Relationship, F/F, Holiday Sweaters, Skimmons Secret Santa
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-24
Updated: 2015-12-24
Packaged: 2018-05-06 22:12:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,192
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5432648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pirateygoodness/pseuds/pirateygoodness
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Daisy and Jemma celebrate Christmas together. Set in a magical Agents of SHIELD universe where it’s season 3 but nobody’s miserable.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It'll Nearly Be Like a Picture Print by Currier & Ives

**Author's Note:**

> Written as a gift for [ohladybegood](http://ohladybegood.tumblr.com/) on Tumblr as part of Skimmons Secret Santa 2015. Surprise!

Jemma’s not really a knitter. Daisy’s seen her knit occasionally - a hat for Fitz’s birthday a while back, and a couple pairs of complicated-looking mittens with snowflake designs that Daisy’s pretty sure got sent to Jemma’s parents. She's not the type of person who's always got a knitting project in progress, and she’s not really the type to knit Christmas gifts every year, or anything. But a few times a year, she pulls out her needles and some wool and decides that she's in the mood to work on something.

It’s November twenty-sixth when Daisy finds Jemma sitting on her bed, surrounded by tiny balls of red and white yarn and a bunch of diagrams. 

“Hey, you,” she says, from the doorway. 

Jemma smiles in greeting. She’s got her knitting needles in hand, index finger flicking across stitches like she’s counting. Daisy uses the opportunity to slip in behind Jemma and wrap her arms around her waist, pressing her nose into the back of Jemma’s neck. “So, what are you making,” she asks, making sure to tickle at Jemma’s ribs until she shivers and looks away from her counting. 

“Daisy,” Jemma starts, exasperated in that fond, indulgent voice that never makes Daisy feel like she’s actually done anything wrong. 

“What are you making,” Daisy asks again, pressing a kiss to Jemma’s shoulder. 

Jemma chuckles and Daisy feels it against her front. “I’m not sure yet,” she says. “Maybe a jumper.” 

“Oh yeah? For you?” 

Jemma shakes her head, _no_. Daisy feels it against her face, hair tickling back and forth. 

“Who’s it for, then?” Daisy's trying to sound noncommittal, but she’s been asking Jemma to knit her something for months now, and it’s their first Christmas _together_ , coming up. So, it wouldn't be unreasonable to hope for something for herself.

Jemma chuckles. “I was thinking maybe for Bobbi.”

Daisy tries to keep the disappointment out of her voice. “Oh, yeah?” 

“Yeah, I think she’d like that.” Jemma shifts a little, so that she can see Daisy’s face while she speaks. “We were talking the other day, and I don’t think she’s ever had anyone make her a handmade gift, you know?”

Daisy nods. She can’t exactly picture Hunter sitting still long enough to knit anything. “Yeah, you’re probably right.” She reaches out to pluck at the yarn trailing away from Jemma’s knitting needles. It’s soft, softer than she would have expected, and exactly her favourite shade of red. “Do you think you could knit something for me, next?” she asks, after a little while.

“I think so,” Jemma says, giving Daisy that bright-eyed smile that means _yes_ “If you play your cards right.” 

Daisy plans to do exactly that. 

 

+

 

Jemma’s sweater - well, _Bobbi’s_ sweater, but the one that Jemma’s knitting - seems to get prettier the longer she works at it. She’s added the white yarn as well as the red, and it’s turning into this cool sort of thing where the colours work together into patterns. There are little speckles and chevrons, and something that looks suspiciously like it might turn into deer once the pattern’s finished. It’s beautiful, in a loud sort of way - the perfect holiday sweater. 

Daisy’s not jealous or anything, but she just - it’s a very nice sweater, and sometimes she wishes she was getting one, too. She mentions it to Fitz one day, loitering in the lab by his desk. Jemma’s knitting basket is sitting underneath her workstation, taunting her. 

“It just doesn’t seem fair, you know?” Fitz grunts out a noncommittal _hmm_ , that either means he agrees or he’s not listening at all. “I mean, I’m her girlfriend. _I’m_ supposed to get the unfortunate knitted sweater, it’s like a rule.” 

Fitz looks up from his workstation with what Daisy thinks is an excessively irritated eye roll. “It’s not _unfortunate_ , it’s Fair Isle,” he says. “It’s from Scotland. My nan used to make jumpers like that when I was a kid, they’re really warm.”

Daisy crosses her arms, suddenly feeling defensive. She didn’t mean that it was a bad sweater - it’s a perfect sweater, and it probably is really warm. “Whatever, she’s still my girlfriend. Bobbi should find her own girlfriend to knit her sweaters.”

Fitz sighs. “And don’t - stop saying _girlfriend_ , you know I don’t like thinking about the two of you doing -“

Daisy chuckles. Teasing Fitz, at least, is familiar territory. (And gives her a distraction from the fact that maybe she _does_ have some sweater jealousy issues, just a little.) “What?” she says. “ _Kissing_?”

“Things, like - yes, that. _Stop._ ”

“Things like making out?” Daisy says, drawing out the last syllable until Fitz covers his ears, irritated. It helps. 

 

+

 

The week before Christmas, the sweater is nearly done. Jemma’s just working on the last few rows of the sleeves, and it looks perfect and warm and Bobbi is the luckiest jerk in the universe. They’re sitting together, Jemma knitting on Daisy’s bed and Daisy reading mission briefings on her tablet. Every so often, she’ll lean over Jemma’s shoulder to check in on what she’s doing. 

“So, I don’t have a sweater,” Daisy says, after a while. “Just so you know.” 

Jemma’s smile is soft, and she glances at Daisy with this warm, affectionate look on her face and yeah, that helps. “Really,” she says. “I hadn’t noticed. You’ve been so subtle.” 

“Well,” Daisy starts, but she doesn’t really know what to say after that. She’s getting that feeling again, sort of sad and sort of vulnerable over wanting something, and she doesn’t know how to explain herself without sounding petty. 

But Jemma gets it right away, puts down her knitting and drags Daisy over for a kiss. Her mouth is soft and sweet, and even though they kiss all the time, it still _gets_ Daisy, how good Jemma is at it. “Hey,” she mumbles against Daisy’s mouth, snuggling in closer. “I didn’t realize it was making you upset. I’ll knit you something next, I promise.” 

“Yeah?”

Jemma nods. “Maybe not in time for Christmas, but soon after.” 

“Yeah?” Daisy asks. “Like - could you make me a cool hat?”

“If you like,” Jemma says, giggling. 

“Can it have, like, dinosaurs?”

Jemma smiles, running a hand through Daisy's hair over and over again, until her eyes threaten to flutter closed. “I can try.” 

Daisy nods. “Definitely dinosaurs. Maybe like, dinosaurs and little tiny - I don’t know, I guess laptops would look silly. Maybe ice cream cones.”

“To balance out the dinosaurs?” Jemma asks. 

“Yeah, otherwise it’d be too much.” 

Daisy turns and Jemma’s making that face - Daisy’s favourite one, the one that says _I like you a lot_. She kisses Daisy’s cheek with an indulgent, teasing smile. “Of course. Wouldn’t want that.”

It’s not a sweater, but it’s something that’s going to be _hers_ and that’s exciting, all on its own. Even if Bobbi is getting the best Christmas present in the universe, Daisy has Jemma, and that counts for a lot more. 

 

+

 

It’s Christmas Eve, and Daisy is absolutely not home snuggling with anybody, like she thought she'd be. Instead, she's tired and sweaty and - most importantly - so hungry that she’d cheerfully fight someone for a sandwich. She’s on her way back to the Playground from downtown Des Moines, where she _was_ running back end on a mission with Bobbi, but then their target vaporized a hole in the side of her van and things went pretty sideways after that. 

She gets back to the Playground at five minutes to midnight. Her right ear is still ringing from an explosion that hit a little too close, and she’s sore and exhausted and _mad_ , because this was supposed to be her first Christmas Eve with Jemma. It’s not like anyone can _schedule_ someone going through terrigenesis and taking out half a city block, but it feels a little personal, all the same. 

She gets back to her bunk and halfway out of her tactical suit - gauntlets off and left at tech for maintenance, clothing stripped off down to her tank and shorts. She wriggles out of her shorts, trying to ignore the layer of dust that gets all over her hands as she slides them down her legs. She’s just reaching for her pyjamas and her shower stuff when she finally realizes that there’s someone in her bed. She feels a familiar rush of adrenaline, just for a moment, before she recognizes that someone as Jemma, asleep. 

Daisy lets out the breath she was holding. At the sound, Jemma stirs a little. She rolls over, and when she does, Daisy thinks she recognizes a familiar wooly sleeve ass she shifts under the covers. Jemma blinks a little, frowning and then opening her eyes. “Skye. Daisy,” she says, correcting herself. She only forgets Daisy’s name at moments like this, when she’s tired and a little disoriented and honestly, it’s one of Daisy’s favourite things. She sits up, rubbing at her eyes. “You’re back.” 

“Yeah, it, uh, got a little more interesting than we’d planned. Is that -“ she pauses, squinting in the dark. “Is that Bobbi’s sweater?”

Jemma turns on the light by Daisy’s bed and nods, a little shyly. “It was meant to be a surprise, but then you were late and I must have fallen asleep, I -“

“What kind of a surprise?”

Jemma runs a hand through her hair and blushes, a little. “A surprise for you.”

“Yeah?”

Jemma sits a little straighter. As she does, the covers slide off and pool at her waist. There’s a flash of skin as she rearranges herself, and Daisy quickly realizes that Jemma’s wearing that sweater and _probably only that sweater_. She suddenly feels about half as tired as she did a few seconds ago. “Happy Christmas,” she says, gesturing to herself. 

“Just to clarify, because I’m really tired right now - my present is the sweater, or you?”

Jemma shrugs. “It can be both, if you like.” 

Daisy takes a minute. Because she had this really rough night, and all she wanted was Christmas cookies and one of those dumb holiday episodes of _Doctor Who_ that Jemma and Fitz and Bobbi like so much, and suddenly her gorgeous girlfriend is half-naked in her bed with the best present Daisy’s ever had. It’s a lot to process, and she can feel herself getting emotional and it’s not - she doesn’t want to make a big deal, but she’s been awake for a really long time and she used her powers a lot today which always leaves her kind of shaky and worn out, and she doesn’t have a lot of extra energy to spend on hiding the fact that this is the most thoughtful thing anyone’s ever done for her. “But I thought that sweater was for Bobbi,” she says, like an idiot.

Jemma smiles and it’s kind of smug and really loving, all at once. “It was for you all along, silly. I just wanted it to be a surprise.” She spreads out her arms, turning from side to side so that Daisy can see the sweater in its entirety. “What do you think?” 

She feels herself smiling, and the room is sort of blurry and watery because she’s tearing up, a little bit. “I love it,” Daisy says. “I, um. I can’t believe you made something for me.” 

“Of course,” Jemma says, a little shyly. “You deserve it.”

Daisy doesn’t know what to say. It’s - it’s not too much, it’s just enough, but she doesn’t have enough words to talk about it, yet. Instead, she drops her pyjamas and towel and sort of dives onto the bed, easing Jemma into a kiss. Jemma presses against her, first laughing and then sighing, letting herself slide back down against the pillows. Daisy can feel the soft wooliness of the sweater against her chest, and smooth skin and heat against her legs and yeah, this is something she could get used to. There’s a laziness to the kissing - making out, maybe, because Jemma keeps licking into her mouth and rocking her hips into Daisy’s thigh - that’s sort of lovely. Daisy eases the hem of Jemma’s sweater - her sweater - a little higher, so that she can cup Jemma’s breast, kissing her a few more times. “Thank you,” Daisy whispers, after a while. 

“You’re welcome,” Jemma says. She runs her fingers through Daisy’s hair, working out knots as she does. She rests her head against Daisy’s shoulder and breathes deeply, then pauses. “You smell like burning tires, love.” 

Daisy laughs. She probably does. “I smell like _saving lives_ , okay? It’s a great smell.”

“I didn’t realize saving lives was so _pungent_.” Jemma says, but she’s teasing, they both know that she is. 

“Well,” Daisy says. “Why don’t I go take a shower, and you can keep my sweater warm for when I get back?”

She leans in for one last, lingering kiss, and when she pulls away, Jemma’s blushing. “I think I can manage that,” she says. 

Daisy sits up. She knows that the faster she showers, the faster she’ll be able to get back here, but she just needs a minute to feel - something. Lucky, maybe. “See you soon,” Daisy mumbles. 

Jemma chuckles. “Absolutely.”

**Author's Note:**

> For the curious, the sweater Jemma's knitting has an actual pattern. It's based off of [this](http://www.ravelry.com/patterns/library/reindeer-sports-jumper) sweater pattern from the 1940s, but with modifications for a more modern silhouette. I think Daisy would look very dashing in it.


End file.
